


8 Feet Deep

by Floris_Oren



Category: White Collar
Genre: Buried Alive, Capture, Every one just wants Neal to be okay, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, It's not in the relationship part of this because it's not an official pairing, Kidnapping, Let me know if you guys want it to be it wouldn't hurt the story i just didn't think it applied, Night terros, Protective!Elizabeth, Protective!June, Protective!Mozzie, Protective!Peter, Protective!team White Collar, Recovery, Semi-Inspired by Criminal Minds though this is not a cross over with that show, Serial Killer, slight June/Neal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5795434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floris_Oren/pseuds/Floris_Oren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal has been kidnapped more than he can even count; this time is different. This time, he doesn't have anything to bargain his freedom. This time, he can't save himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I decided that we needed one of these fics because I am a Monster. This is TOTALLY unrelated to the Snipe Hunt Fic. Sorry. 
> 
> Also the OC's that count ;)  
> Nathanial Key is tall, and a hunk. Think Dirk Benedict as Face but a bit older and not nearly as charming.  
> Leslie Hammond - is super smart and loves word games. Think Merida from Brave but without the accent. And she is brash and brave and Nathanial hates when she does something stupid.  
> (Nope, they are not dating.)

Nathaniel Key looks down at the body that the team had just un-earthed. "He's been here for days. But died recently." he said. He could tell from the decomp of the body that the victim had been dead for under twenty four hours. Next to him Leslie takes down notes.

"The clues he left weren't much, this was too easy, do you think He'll try for a more complicated system with his next victim?" she asked.

Nathaniel sighed. He didn't know and he didn't want to know. He wished they had caught the bastard this time. The Clue Maker is a menace to society. They had to catch him. Fast.

~*~

Night veiled New York in darkness hours ago; Peter had kept him late and they had just left. Neal opted to walk home. He wanted to stop by a winery for a bottle to replenish what Mozz had just finished due to the case keeping Neal away from their planning. Peter thought something was up and Neal had to do a lot of back tracking and covering. They'd still have to give it some time for Peter to calm down, and a good case to get the man distracted.

"Excuse me, sir..." someone approached Neal from the alley way. Neal stopped, and looked around, shiftily.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I'm lost and need directions, can you tell me how to get to high point place?"

  
Neal screwed his face up in thought. "That's three block's up that way." he pointed. The man had come closer and before Neal was able to duck back, he was tazered until he went to the ground and then some. He smelled smoke but couldn't get away from the man who turned him onto his front. Cuffed his wrists, but also added tape around his fingers. He can't slip or pick the locks.

Then hands on his ankle. Taking the tracker off.

"Wait, no..."

A massive punch to the face silences Neal. He lays on the ground out like a light. The man above him easily hefts the younger man over his shoulder. He leaves the tracker in the street like trash.


	2. Chapter 1 - MIA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Team investigate Neal's Disappearance, The BSU Agents stop by. Neal wakes up, and Mozz faints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 hasn't even been started but I figured that updating twice in one day is better than waiting. BUT, from now on I'll only post a chapter when the next one is done. So in this case, I won't post again until three is done. The numbering is going to be off because of the Prologue but this is the first chapter. I hope that makes sense. Thanks for reading and I hope ya'll enjoy this story. Sorry I've decided to be deranged this time around.

"Get me Caffrey's last known location." Peter yelled as soon as he got to the office. Diana and Jones were on their cell's but he didn't care. They had to find Neal. The Con Artist could be in Hong Kong by now. Diana hung up and joined Peter in the conference room.

"His tracker was cut off at Deerbrook," she said.

"That's his normal route back to June's." Peter said.

"I know he was shifty these last few days but do you think he'd really run?" she asked.

"You don't think he did, this time?" Peter frowned.

"I thought he and the little guy were up to something, one of their games, ya know. Not running." she said. "But I put out feelers on all the Alias' we know he goes by and a few he doesn't and nothing."

"Damn." Peter frowned.

"Peter. Neal's last known location was here. He didn't stop off at any stores before he lost the tracker." Jones replied.

"Oh, so now he lost it!?" Peter's frown turned into a glower.

"Well, the Marshal's think that something shorted the tracker." Jones said. "And there's one way to do that."

Peter's cell rang, he held up a finger. Jones waited as Peter took it; "Nothing? Are you sure his go bags are there as well? no, leave them." Peter said.

"You're not going to take his go bags?" Diana blinked.

"For if he does run, I can catch him and he'll know he can't win this game, but, now I'm on board with this theory of yours." Peter said, the clues adding up to Neal being taken is far more likely a theory than he ran.

"What were you going to say, Jones?" Peter asked.

"The Marshal's think Neal was tazed at a high degree, that's the only way that particular tracker can short out. Otherwise, not even water will do anything."

"Alright, so we're looking at a kidnapping." Peter sighed.

"And that's why we're here." a man and a woman joined them. Peter stood and took the woman's hand in a handshake, then the man.

"I'm Nathanial Key and this is Leslie Hammond, We're from the BSU." Nathaniel said. "And I'm here because we believe that your CI was taken by the Clue Maker." he said, and put down that day's newspaper on the conference table.

"Why is it turned to the personal's?" Jones asked. "No one uses those these days."

"Yes, usually people have gone to the internet to find other's but this guy is old school." Leslie explained.

"Look at this one." She said. Then read the add aloud. "Lost Puppy found. Light blue eyes and dark fur. Very pretty for one so small. for more info, park side place."

"Park Side Place?" Diana looks it up on her phone. "That's outside Neal's radius."

"And how do we not know it's just a dog?" Peter wondered.

"Because the Clue Maker always uses a type of animal to describe his victims. He uses hair color for the fur and the eyes are always whatever the victim has; but he's deviated. He also said that your CI was small and pretty. He's never actually describe a victim like that, we think he may be escalating." Leslie explained.

Peter took the paper and looked at the advert himself; "This isn't good."

"No. we have to find your CI and the Clue Maker." Nathaniel said. "I had hoped we can work together, you seem to have a talent at finding people."

"Yes, let's do that." Peter agreed.

"We've a CSI Team at the Park Side Place. They also found this." he reached into his jacket and pulled out an evidence bag that held a New York State ID. It had Neal's real name on it, and his face.

"That's the proof we needed." Peter said. "Call the Marshal's and let them know that Neal didn't run. but keep an eye on all of his Alias' just in case he uses one to give us a clue to where he is." Peter said. Then he grabbed his coat. "I need to go down to this Park Side Place."

"Alright." Leslie nodded. The BSU Agents followed Peter out of the office.

~*~

Neal groaned when he woke up. It was dark. His head was killing him as well as his side. He lie on his back which is stiff and he feels horribly uncomfortable. He brings a hand up to rub at his eyes. He pops his eyes open and it's still dark. The air cold as is his body.

He has nothing to see by; He goes to sit up but is stopped by something above his head. He runs his fingers along it. It's solid, and doesn't budge when he pushes on it. His elbows bump the side of whatever is holding him. He keeps pushing on the top. But he gets nowhere. He doesn't have a watch so he doesn't even know what time it is.

"I suggest that you don't struggle too much." a computerized voice said.

"What? who are you? why am I here?" Neal asked. If he can hear whoever took him than he assumed that his captor had it rigged up so that he could hear Neal.

"It doesn't matter who I am or why you're here, just know that you are. You also only have enough air for two days. That is if you don't struggle or have a panic attack." the voice continued.

Neal swallowed. That did not sound good at all.

"I'll make sure that someone finds your body." and then it all goes silent. Neal closes his eyes. He remembers that time in the Elevator when Mozz wanted Neal and the team to help his waitress friend. Her name escapes him right now. Mozz had said it as a way to make sure the elevator couldn't be used by others. But, what his very dear friend did not know is that Neal harbored a small amount of Claustrophobia. Packed Elevators didn't do it, or another crowded place.

It cropped up at the oddest times. He could be in a tunnel or a vent on an escape and have to stave off a panic attack before he got to safety. This, is a lot different. There's no way out of...his grave. Neal, for the first time in a very long time, is scared.

He closes his eyes and silently counts to a hundred in Italian.

~*~

Park Side Place was built in the early two hundreds; It was five stories tall. Supposed to be a high end, ritzy apartment building complete with a door man, live in maids and a Lobby Manager that would deal with all the needs of those who lived there. Sadly, the builder went bankrupt and the building was never finished. Now it plays host to any amount of homeless, drug addicts, and other criminal elements of the city.

"Why would Caffrey be here? like at all?" Diana muttered as they walked inside.

"He isn't. The Clue Maker leaves clues for us to follow, it's a deadly version of a treasure hunt." Nathaniel replied. The Lobby's floor is some tile and some dirt. The stairway is almost coming down. Though someone had tried to brace it enough so it'd be safe to get to the upper floors. All manor of spiders had spun their webs and the place smelled of mold.

"What exactly are we looking here for?" Jones asked. "It's not like he's going to put up a neon sign saying "Find clue here". is he."

"No. But mostly it's in a plain envelope or he'll have someone deliver it." Leslie replied. She and Nathaniel went off to try and find anything white or of the paper persuasion.

"What else is his mo?" Peter asked. The SCI team had blocked off the whole building and were still roaming around. But no one reported having found anything.

"Weird." Leslie muttered.

"Could it have been a red herring?" Jones asked.

"We did think he'd make it harder this time." Nathaniel replied. The last Hunt was a bit short.

"It's sad how you know this." Diana said.

"I still didn't get there fast enough to save the last victim. So The Clue Maker still won." Nathaniel sighed sadly.

"Hey...look...." Leslie pointed at the graffiti. "That yellow bit looks new."

Nathaniel looked towards where Leslie was pointing.

"What is harder to catch the faster you run?" Peter read out loud.

"That can't be the clue." Jones muttered.

"It's your breath." Leslie said.

"Huh? oh yeah, out of breath. You run out of breath." Jones hummed.

"That's means that he's buried your CI." Nathaniel said.

"What?" Peter demands but he knows where this is going.

"Well, he kills in different ways, but the last two victims were buried alive. This Riddle must mean he's done the same thing to Caffrey." Leslie said.

Peter turned away; "We need more help." he took out his phone and he dialed Mozz.

~*~

"What do you mean by you lost Neal?" Mozz said as he barges into Neal's apartment. He and June had been all over his two mile radius trying to find him. He hadn't shown up that night for their planning session and the two are desperately worried.

"We didn't lose him Mozz." Peter said. "He was taken. There is a difference."

"Okay, right. And it just now happened upon you to call me?" Mozz demanded.

"Mozz. I didn't think it'd turn into a demented treasure hunt, now think. Has there been talk about this Clue Maker in your circles?" Peter asked.

Mozz paced the room. June sat on the couch watching the two men. "The Clue Maker....no. But we have heard about these murders. Most of the pimps are keeping their people close. He started out with them, he strangled them before moving up. Leaving clues and all that junk." Mozz said.

"That's something, if we can find his first victim we can probably figure out where he lives." Peter said. Pulling out his cell phone to text Diana.

"His first Victims will probably be all over the place." Mozz said. "Serial Killer's usually try out different ways to off a person before settling on one."

"The Clue Maker kills his victims in different ways. We think Neal might have been...." Peter cuts himself off but knows he's made a mistake.

"What? Where is Neal? What did they do to that boy?" June is not a force to go against. So Peter schools his face and nods.

"We think he was buried alive."

Mozz fainted. 


	3. 24 hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Clue Master leads a good chase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too excited about this so here is the REAL second chapter. I think....anyway. I think this will be short. I gave myself the WORST time thing in this fic. So unless Clue Master wants to play longer. I guess we're going to see if they get to Neal before he dies. 
> 
> *ohpleaseweallknowpeterisgoingtofindhim*
> 
> Also, I guess there will be some Hurt/Comfort and recovery stuff in this for Neal. Ya know. For reasons.
> 
> *In this universe the Movie Titanic really happened. Someone found the Heart of the Ocean at the site (because not everyone is honorable) and sold it for a shit ton of money and Neal replaced it and put the real one back. Because reasons. No matter where his fantasies go. Sorry. I couldn't think up an good heist of a real thing.

Pictures of the graffiti clue cover the coffee table when El comes home. She'd gotten a hurried message from Peter about Neal missing but not to worry, to call him if Neal happened to pop by. He hadn't, not at home or at work. And Peter hadn't explained what was going on. The pictures however...

"Peter!" she yelled.

"Hon!" Peter rushed downstairs. He was changing into a clean suite, doing up his tie as he hurried down stairs. He stopped when he saw her holding one of the photos.

"El..."

"What's going on?" she asked. Worried. "Where's Neal?"

"We...can't find him." Peter admitted. He can't keep it from his wife, and he had told June and Mozz. So why keep it from El. "The Clue Maker got him, we should actually be calling him the Unsub but that's besides the point. We think he may have been buried alive."

"Where's Mozz and June?" El asked.

"They're contacting the people they know. Mozz passed out for a while." Peter replied.

"Find him, Peter." El said, tears in her eyes.

"I will. I always find him." Peter replied, he swung on his coat and gathered the photos. He deposited them into a folder and put it under his arm as he hurried out to the car.

~*~

Mozz, usually so weird abut federal building, flew into the conference room. He had a stack of photos that he slapped onto the table. "I didn't find Neal but I found our next set of clues."

"Wait...what? set?" Nathaniel asked and reached for the photos.

"It's a code." Mozz replied. Peter stood and took up another one.

"What type of code?" Leslie asked.

"The easiest. A message within a message."

"Lives without a body, hears without ears, speaks without a mouth, to which the air alone gives birth....an echo...." Peter read.

"Put that with your first clue and you get the first two words of the next location." Mozz replied.

"B. E....." Peter says in thought.

"Die without me, never thank me, Always watching, never speaking. Always lurking never seen....Air." Leslie read the next one Mozz had solved.

"The first thing that comes to mind is the Beach." Jones said.

"Which is what the rest of these clues spelled out. I found them all in the various cemeteries but all of the fresh graves didn't hold Neal." Mozz replied.

"Wait, you dug up graves?" Diana glared.

"I got court orders for all of them, it was all Legal." Mozz defended.

"That was fast." Peter said.

"Whatever, can we please concentrate."

"We'll have the beaches combed since we don't know which one." Nathaniel said. He passed Mozz to put in the call.

"Who are they?" Mozz asked, indicating the BSU Agents.

"Nathaniel and Leslie." Peter replied.

"Oh, anyway..." Mozz flapped a hand. "I found your first victim." he put a piece of paper on the table. "And now I'm out."

"What about Neal?" Peter asked.

"Hey, you search for him your way, Suite, and I'll search for him mine." Mozz waved a cell phone at Peter. "Call me, anyway. If you need something or not." and then he was gone.

~*~

Neal is imagining a heist. One of his best. Really. With a forgery of the Heart of the Ocean* he's in the Titanic Museum and switching it. The security guards don't see him and he's out with the real deal. Which, somehow in this fantasy, ends up in El's hands with Peter looking on a bit curiously but he doesn't ask. He never asks and they all fall into bed.

Neal stops himself before it goes too far; he's not dead yet. Even if he's willing to indulge in some forbidden fantasies. His last thoughts, decides, are going to be of Mozz, June, El and Peter. It doesn't matter if he doesn't get out.

He takes one deep breath. Clenches his eyes shut, imagines another heist. As long as he doesn't think about being buried, he'll be alright.

~*~

"Found anything?" Peter asked. They checked the beaches all the way from the New York harbors to the Hampton's sandy shores. Nothing in the way of a grave had been found. They stood on the bank of The Jacob Riis Park. The tide was falling back, evening is setting in and that's one day gone.

"We have to find him soon." Diana said.

"Do I hear a bit of worry in your voice?" Peter asked.

"Maybe." she snorted. "I just give him a hard time because if I don't he'll think he can get away with anything."

"True."

"We found another clue!" Jones said. He ran up to Peter and Diana with Leslie and Nathaniel on his heels. He held out an evidence bag. This time an item is inside.

"Does it say anything?" Diana asked

"It's a statue of the Statue of Liberty." Peter muttered.

"Is anything inside it?" Diana asked.

"Not that we can tell but I was gonna take it to the labs to get it checked out closer. I think we should take a trip to Ellis Island though." Jones said.

"Alright. Lets go." Peter agreed.

~*~

"That is one day gone." The computer voice says. Waking Neal with a start.

"What?" Neal asked, his voice rusty. He pushed the top of the coffin again but it still would not budge.

"Don't worry, they'll find you. Dead." the Voice cut out. Even though Neal tried to get it back. Even with the threats someone was thinking of him. But, that meant he had only enough air for another twenty-four hours. He can't afford to waste it. But, he also had to find a way out.

So he kept pushing.


	4. chapter 3 - the dead line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about not posting, been trying to find a job and having no luck. Hopefully I can find something soon. Anyway, I haven't gotten much done and I know it looks like it's going to be a short fic but hopefully I can make it at least ten chapters. I've got a lot of H/C in mind for this fic. :) also, I hate for anything to happen to those Devor suits which is why Neal isn't wearing one and I mention it in fic. Because, details.

Peter and the gang went home for a moment, to shower and change, then returned to the office. Ellis Island was being examined with a fine comb by a CSI team who'd send over anything they might thought was a clue, every square inch was going to be photographed and so on and so forth. They'd have mural of the place if they could find a warehouse big enough to hold all of the photos.

"Okay." Peter flipped a pen in his hands as he sat back in his chair to think about the case so far. If he thought about it as a case, if he duped himself into believing that Neal wasn't in any trouble he may be able to find him in time.

"What about that Victim Mozz found? Who talked to her?" Peter asked.

"Leslie did," Jones said, and he turned to Leslie to fill the team in on her interview.

"Janet Holmes, was 19 when she was kidnapped. She was put in a room without any windows or a door. She was able to break out through sheer force. She had punched the wall in anger, and it was dented, that's when she destroyed the dry wall and was able to get to the siding of the outside wall. She was able to get a two-by-four free and use it to dent the siding until it came apart and she was able to get out. So obviously it wasn't built very well. She went to the police and they found the shack but of the Unsub they didn't find a trace." Leslie said.

"Hmmm...." Peter was staring at Neal's desk. Where his CI should be. "And what does that tell us of our Unsub....he muttered."

"That's he's crazy." Diana said. She came in with a couple of drink trays of coffee from a vender just outside the building. Their coffee was much better than the office coffee. Everyone thanked her as she handed them out. But, she was left with one.

"Oh..." she kept herself from being unprofessional and cursing.

"It's okay, Neal will enjoy the story when we tell him." Jones said.

Diana sighed, "It was an accident, I wasn't even thinking when I ordered."

"Let's concentrate on finding him." Leslie said. Then she started to talk them through the case so far.

~*~

Eight O'clock came and went with the team going after another clue. Ellis Island hadn't been a complete bust as they were all secretly afraid. Another riddle had appeared at the back of an employee locker of all things. The team almost missed it, if Peter hadn't ordered them to take pictures of everything, public or not, they would have missed it entirely.

THE MORE PLACES I BE THE LESS YOU CAN SEE. WHAT AM I? is written in sharpie in such a way that it could have been anyone messing around. There are others though. Three and they all revolve around each other. Peter is certain of it.

WHAT IS BLACK WHEN YOU BUY IT, RED WHEN YOU USE IT, AND GREY WHEN YOU THROW IT AWAY?

And the third reads: NO LEGS HAVE I TO DANCE, NO LUNGS HAVE I TO BREATH, NO LIFE HAVE I TO LIVE OR DIE AND YET I DO ALL THREE. WHAT AM I?

"These don't make sense." Diana huffed.

"They do we just need to figure out how." Leslie replied, always trying to see the good in a bad situation.

"The way I figure it he's telling us how Neal is going to die." she added.

"Happy thoughts indeed." Peter grumbled.

"What are the answers." Jones said. "but also clues to tell us where he is."

"Good one." Diana said. "Well, I figure the first one is darkness. We already know he buries his victims." she said.

"Not all the time." Leslie reminded her. "But we can't rule it out." she added with a shrug.

"He could combine techniques. One to kill and one to hide the body." Nathaniel said. "We've gone about this case in theory mostly because we've only found two bodies and you found his first victim."

"We have to find him today." Peter said. "We're running out of time. So, darkness....that could be a basement or tunnels....the seconds is...." he sighed. Unable to think clearly.

"Hey, my dad refuses to use propane grills, he always uses Charcoal. I think that's what the second riddle is." Jones said. After a few moments of silence and thinking about any item that could do all three things.

"And what do you do to charcoal?" Peter muttered, "You set it on fire, that's what's going to happen to Neal." he started pacing the office.

"But what's the best place to do it?" Diana asked.

"We have to go back to the beginning." Leslie smacked her head. "Did we search all of Par Side?"

"Yeah," Diana nodded. We found nothing.

"But what's across from it?" Leslie led them.

"High Point." Peter said. Then he and the team abandoned the conference room. Peter was on his phone. "Hey, El, we might have found him, tell the little guy and June alright?"

~*~

Neal woke to something wet seeping into his clothing. At least this suite was one he'd bought with some cash Peter hadn't known about, it wasn't one of Byron's Devor. That would have been a shame. And then he smelt it.

"The fuck!?" he pushed on the lid. The smell of gas permeated what little oxygen he had left. It was slowly filling the box up.

"You're out of time, my dear," the computer voice said. Neal would have replied but he didn't have the stamina. Who knew lying in a box for two days would do that to a person. "Have fun in the afterlife." the voice said. And then it cut out and silence reigned once more.

"Fuck," Neal mutters, because he doesn't want that to be the last thing he hears.

"Peter, where are you?" he doesn't say the words that come next. **_You always find me._**


	5. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal is rescued, he gets some TLC from June but he isn't doing well at all. The Clue Master is still at large.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI - Treasure Island is one of my most favorite books. I used to make it a point to read it at least twice a year. I haven't read it in a very long time, but I needed a book and so ya'll got this one. :) The bold at the end of this chapter is the first sentence from "The old sea dog at the Admirable Benbow."

June is not one to sit idly by and let other people do the hard work for her; she grew up during a time where you worked hard to get what you wanted and now she was living off of her and Byron's hard work. Their fortune is her reward which means she can go jet-setting whenever she want, host lavish parties and be invited to the White House.

However, that doesn't mean that she hasn't helped out a few people in her husband's line of work, Neal being one of her favorites, and now (besides Mozz) she has two others at her table for lunch. She would have invited Elizabeth but being the wife of an FBI Agent, it was better to shield her from their talk altogether. As a wife herself, June had told Byron anything and everything, they had no secrets and that is how a marriage works.

"Was that El?" Mozz asked. The other two Kathleen and Cornelius politely looked away. Even though, being part of the criminal element, knew who was in with the FBI and who wasn't. The only reason Neal's plan was working at all was because of the tracker, or he'd have been dumped into the river with cement shoes long before now.

"Yes, Peter thinks he may have found him." June replied.

"Where?" Kathleen asked, her French accent is heavy, she's wearing a powder blue pant suit with a bright white button down, her short brown hair has been cut to a classic bob. She looks like she has just stepped out of an old black and white hollywood movie. Next to her, Cornelius wears a classic suite himself. He's older with white and black hair and wrinkles along his face, but when it comes to a conman, Cornelius is just a bit better than Neal. June wants them to meet so that Neal could further his education.

"High Point." June replied.

"Ah, the old Art gallery," Kathleen nodded. "I used to go there all the time."

"It's condemned now," Mozz said. "The FBI took down the owner for fraud and terrorism charges."

"It's been abandoned ever since, yes?" Kathleen asked.

Mozz nodded.

"Alright, but that doesn't mean that they've caught whoever kidnapped Neal, this isn't an episode of Criminal Minds after all." Cornelius says. His light, London accent grows a bit heavy for a second.

"Look, you two don't have to help, I can keep Neal safe all by myself." Mozz said. June smiled at his overprotectiveness. Neal would scoff but Mozz is entirely serious. She also feels a bit of that, herself, she likes Neal. Well, maybe a bit more than like. She wants to keep him in her tower and never let him go.

But all Fairy Tails come to an end.

"I've been keeping abreast of him for years now," Cornelius said. "He is a remarkable artist."

"I've seen his reproductions as well. No one would know it if they weren't looking." Kathleen said, a forger herself, she knew a deft hand when she saw one.

"What does that mean?" mozz squared them off with a look that said he wasn't buying what they were selling. They smiled, knew when they were outsmarted.

"If it helps, June has employed us a time or two to help you out with some of your more enterprising jobs." Cornelius said. "I won't go into detail but I think Kathleen and I can handle sticking around for Neal. I would like to pick his brain a bit anyway." he said.

"Uhhh..." Mozz didn't know what to say to that.

"We'll need some papers, good enough that the FBI won't go poking around." Kathleen said.

"Have you even met Peter Burke? his middle name is "Let's poke it with a sitck"!" Mozz exclaimed in frustration.

"Mozz, please, for Neal?" June asked. Knowing how to pull on Mozz who thanked her for it with a death glare that would have blown up a planet if he was a Death Star.

"Fine. But you make sure they don't hurt him, okay." he pointed a finger at her. June gave him a look in return, which suggested he was an idiot for even stating that. He stood. "Okay, I'll get the papers for you." then he left without a backward glance or even a good-by.

June smiled. "Lunch?"

"Are you alright, June?" Kathleen asked. "I know you're worried about that boy..."

"I am worried about him, but Peter Burke has spent three years chasing him down, and has found him every other time he's run off. If Peter says he's found him this time, than I believe he has. Also, sometimes, you have to just let other people do the work for you and be there to put the pieces back together." June said.

"I know of this fellow," Cornelius sighs, "we don't call him the Clue Maker in the UK, we call him the Beast of Death."

"Both names give me the chills." June admitted.

"I thought I had taken him down," Cornelius said. "A friend of mine in the Yard asked for my help. I turned over every rock I could until I found a man by the name of Luis Walton. He was arrested and tried for three murders that the Yard could pin on him."

"But of course being the Uk...." June said.

"Indeed. But, he escaped. I thought the Yard and interpol would find him, and if they included the FBI it wouldn't be White Collar." Cornelius said.

"Maybe Neal was just an easy target." Kathleen put in.

"Probably, he's very approachable." June said. But that was a thing for all conmen and women, wasn't it? If they looked easy to talk too, than they would be approached by someone wanting to sell them something or someone looking for directions. "Such is the life."

~*~

The doors to the abandoned building burst open as a sea of Agents, guns pulled, swarmed the place. In the middle of what was supposed to be the lobby stands a folding table with some computer equipment on it, still powered up. There's a cylinder with an air pressure read out, it's in the red. Only ten minutes left and then it's on fumes.

"Get the back up air tanks in here." Peter yelled. Leaving the rest of the Agents to search out their Unsub. Another crew came in with a tank almost the same as the one in the lobby; they started to hook it up as Jones got the machine that was pumping in the gas to stop and reverse the process.

"Is he alive?" Jones asked, hurrying over to Peter who was messing around on the computer.

"I don't...know..." he hit a button and they could suddenly hear Neal's sharp intake of breath.

"Neal!?" Peter called. Uncertain if the microphone was on.

"P-p-eter...?" Neal said, as if he was hearing things.

"Yeah Buddy, I'm here. I've found you." Peter replied. Not messing with any of the equipment because he didn't want to lose the connection.

"Are you...real?"

"Yes, Neal. I am. We're gonna dig you up okay. We're connecting another air pump so you won't suffocate. Okay?" Peter said. Trying to keep his voice hopeful and calm. Neal's already been through enough, he doesn't need any extra stress.

"Okay, keep it on, okay...I want...I need to hear....to know..."

"It's okay Neal, we're all here." Jones said. Peter moved off to give more orders for the backhoe. The sooner they get Neal up and out of there, the better.

~*~

June is waiting with the limo outside the crime scene when Neal staggers out; He's looking haggard and white as a ghost. Peter is at his side bringing him near the car. June gets out and approaches to bring Neal into a much needed hug.

"My dear. Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm going to be." Neal promised, his smile isn't very big but she doesn't blame him for not trying to be his old conniving self.

"Are you certain you don't want to stay with me and El?" Peter asked.

Neal looked down and wiggled the leg that had the tracker on it. June frowned, thinking it was too early but Neal gave Peter a shy smile; "You'll be checking it all the time, right?"

"Yeah." Peter nodded.

"Than if its okay, I'm going with June." Neal said, his voice small. If Peter insisted he would go and stay but he really just wanted his room and his clothes and June and Mozz;

"Okay, we'll be by to check up on you." Peter promised instead. Knowing when to not push, for once. June smiled and nodded. Inviting them to dinner on Friday. Then she pushed Neal into the limo and whisked him away from the abandoned building.

~*~

He was gone before we got there." Leslie said as she watched the other Agents hurry about collecting what evidence they could.

"He's probably on to another victim." Nathaniel muttered.

"How are we going to catch him?" Leslie asked. She looked down at the shaky writing that made up Caffrey's report of what happened to him. It was short, and to the point.

"We need to catch him." Nathaniel said. Then he put on his sunglasses and walked out of the building. Leslie on his heels.

~*~

Neal takes a deep breath when he finally reaches the apartment that June loans him. It's as if he was never kidnapped. His art supplies are out as he had left them, a portrait of a woman, face hidden, back in a libidinous bow, is half painted in brown and grey shadows on a large canvas. The bed is made, the kitchen clean and the wine cellar stocked.

"Neal?" June asks, he turns to her and smiles. This time it reaches his eyes.

"I'm home, June." he said.

"I'm glad, sweetheart." she replied. "Bath," she pointed to the bathroom. Neal laughed, he's simply delighted to be alive. After spending so much time in the dark, the colors look far more vibrant. Everything has a brightness to it that he had missed before, so wound up in his own problems and what not. How had it taken two days in a box, facing his death, to realize that he had it made in the shade? practically. Even with the anklet, which he now looks at fondly.

He paces to the bathroom, June comes after him, grabbing his well worn sweats which have paint stains all over them. Neal is leaning over the tub, the water is on high and hot. He's putting sweet smelling oils - lavender and hazel - into the water. Along with some epsom salt.

"Mind if I help?" June asked. Neal looks back at her. Blinks.

"I..."

"Please, Neal?" its soft but Neal bows to her whims anyway. Truth be told he's tired and he just wants to relax and not smell like gas. He starts to undo his clothes. The suit is ruined. She leaves so he can have a bit of privacy for other matters. And once that's done and he's settled into the bath tub, he calls her back.

June has taken off her jacket and looks casual while Neal lies in the bath tub. She looks at him with an air of want and need. He has to look away before he becomes too uncomfortable.

"Neal, baby." June says. She takes a wash cloth and goes for the body wash he favors. Neal sits up as she suds him, gently prodding him to move this way and that. Once done he lies back and dunks his head into the water. He moves to soap it up but June is there first, running her hands through wet water. Not letting him do anything but relax and enjoy the pampering.

He didn't know she liked doing it. He read it in her eyes, the way they lit a certain way and the way she touched him gently.

"Why did you want to do this?" he asks finally.

June gives him a smile; "sometimes, when Byron was gone for a long time, and came home hurt, I'd do this." she said. "I've been worried for you and I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know that's selfish, but...thank you for indulging me."

Neal smiled. "Thank you for doing it."

~*~

Mozz arrived when Neal was half way through getting dressed; Neal and June didn't speak about what had transpired before and Mozz bullied his friend into the bed.

"What do you want to eat?" Mozz asked. Neal hadn't realized he was hungry until just then.

"I don't know..." he started but June put a hand on his arm.

"Something not too rich, dear, or you're throw it up." she said.

"What do you think I should have?" Neal asked.

"My cook has some broth and toast ready whenever you are." she replied.

"Than may I have it now?" he asked, a bit shyly. Mozz watched in facination as June nodded and went to call up the tray.

"What was that all about?" Mozz asked. He'd never seen the older woman act that way, nor Neal take it with such grace. Usually he'd chafe at being told what to do or eat or...well...anything, really.

"I'm getting spoiled." Neal smirked, his eyes alight with a mischevious fire that Mozz missed.

"They haven't found the guy who took you." Mozz said.

"I didn't think they would." Neal replied.

"But, June has a couple of friends who're on the lookout."

"Okay." Neal nodded.

June interrupted with the tray and set it on Neal's lap. There was a bowl of chicken brother, tea and toast. Neal picked up the spoon and took small sips of the broth. His stomach rolled but he persisted until it was gone. Eating, he felt, took longer than it was supposed to. He was done about twenty minutes later and June gave him some over the counter meds for nausia.

"Do you think you can sleep?" she asked.

"I've been sleeping off and on." Neal replied.

"I've brought some things you may like." Mozz said and he got his bag, in it were several art books and a new sketching pad. Neal took up the pad and June fetched Neal his pencils.

"Mind if we turn on the tv?" Mozz asked.

"Noise will be good." Neal agreed. He was tired to listening to silence.

~*~

_If the color black could have shades, Neal is pretty certain he's found it. He's breathing hard, then he remembers, he shouldn't breath. He'll run out of air and he'll die. The computer voices in taunting him, but he can't hear the words properly._

_Someone is calling his name, but he can't move. The lid of the coffin is right before his face and he can't sit up. He's going to die. He's going to die._

Something strikes him about the face and suddenly he can breath again.

"Neal?" Mozz looks as if he's just kicked a puppy dog.

Neal's lung are aching for air so he takes a long, deep breath. "What?" he gasps.

"You were having a nightmare." Mozz replied.

Neal nodded. Uncertain as to what he should say. He can't reassure Mozz that he's okay, because he isn't.

"It's alright, Neal. You don't have to pretend with me." Mozz says. He toes his shoes off and shoos Neal further into the bed before settling down next to him. "How about I read something to you?"

Neal nods.

" ** _Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end_**..."

 

 


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal is safe at home but the Clue Maker is still at large. Even though the FBI tries their hardest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the previous plot point. I remember thinking about a hospital scene and to do some research but forgot and wrote the June/Neal scene instead. I kinda fix that in this chapter. Cornelius and Kathleen make an appearance but I changed their roll in this fic so this will be the last time we'll see them. 
> 
> Anyway. Sorry that this is so damned short. And I'll rename the chapters whenever I get the time. I can't come up with any proper chapter titles so...yeah.

  
June got her private Physician in to see Neal that evening, who promptly talked himself out of going to the hospital despite what Doctor Hammond though or suggested. After having Neal sign a piece of paper saying he knew the medical risks involved in his situation, the Hammond set up an IV and took some blood to test. It'd be back sometime in the next week, and he also regulated Neal to bed rest for at least two weeks.

Bored out of his mind; Neal has the History Chanel on, they're doing a marathon on Ancient Aliens, which Mozz is forbidden to watch but nothing else is on and Neal refuses to read Treasure Island without Mozz actually reading it to him. They got to chapter three before Mozz had stopped because Neal was snoring softly on his chest, and spent the rest of the night just holding him.

Now that the Doctor has left him; and June's gone off to a function she couldn't get out of, Mozz is in the shower, he's alone. For the first time since he was rescued. And he can't help but thinking about how different it feels to be home, in his own bed, needles in his arm, but with caring people around him.

There's a knock on his door; then it opens and El pokes her head in.

"Hey," she says softly. Neal grins. "Hi."

"Peter would have come but there might be a lead on the Clue Maker and..."

"Is that what the press is calling the guy?" Neal asked.

El enters the apartment proper, she has a tray of coffee and doughnuts. And a bag. "You ever crochet before?" she asked.

Neal blinked at the sudden conversation change but let it go; If El wasn't telling him something it was because Peter had asked her not to. Neal smiles gently and pats the bed next to him.

El climbs on and hands him some coffee and puts the box of heavy bread between them. Then she brings out balls of brightly colored yarn. "I thought maybe you'd like to learn a new art."

"What's artful about winding yarn?" Neal asked.

El smiled, "It's fun." and while they laughed at the crazy scientist on Ancient Aliens El taught Neal how to crochet and soon enough Mozz joined them.

~*~

Cornelius sits in a cafe across the street from a taxidermy office. Luis Walton owned and ran the office. He had many stuffed animals in the window. But, he also stuffed a few humans. The three kills he was tried for in the UK was only proven to be him because he had stuffed the women and kept them in a secret room in his house that, if Cornelius hadn't poked around, wouldn't have been found.

Kathleen sits down at the table, a coffee in hand and a new passport she hands to Cornelius. "Plan?"

"We simply need to give the FBI a lead." Cornelius said. "No one needs to know that we were ever here."

"Except June." Kathleen corrected.

"Right." Cornelius nodded. "Now my dear, where would you like to go?"

"Singapore sounds like fun." Kathleen smiled.

Cornelius took up the burner phone and called one, Peter Burke.

~*~

Later, Peter would go home, punch a wall and then do what he always did, go through the case until he found a clue he'd missed that would tie it all up into a nice, little bow. Luis Walton would be put in jail for life and Neal would get through it with help from his friends, and maybe a bit of professional help as well. He still had yet to talk to Neal since he saw him off at June's limo.

However, several hours before he could go home. Peter stands in the basement of Luis Walton's business with Nathaniel and Leslie. There are five women, they've all been stuffed, they're all in very obscene poses. He's kept his favorites. The one's that didn't get buried alive like Neal. One has burn marks. And that's probably when he found out he wanted to burn someone alive, in a coffin no less.

"And he was able to walk out with his Lawyer?" Diana glared.

Peter closed his phone, put it back in his pocket. Walton had barely been taken to an interrogation room before his Lawyer did some sort of legal magic (Or not so legal) and got him out before they could question him.

"He says this is wax, and that we have to leave because our search warrant doesn't cover the basement." Peter growled. The teams reluctantly left. But not before Diana "accidentally" took some pictures with her personal phone.

~*~

"What do you mean he walked?" Neal asked. He felt as if things were closing in on him, his breath is short and all he sees, all of a sudden, is darkness and the smell of gas permeates the air.

"Buddy?" Peter sat on the bed next to him. El, Mozz and June watch on silently. "He can't get to you Neal." Peter promised. "I won't let him."

Neal rubbed his eyes and waited until the slight panic attack left him. It took a while and he didn't want to know what a full on one would do to him.

"I'm sorry, Neal. I thought we had him."

"I know, Peter."

"What are you going to do about it?" Mozz demanded.

"We got a no contact order between him and Neal." Peter replied. "And we've put him on twenty four our surveillance. He's still a serial killer." Peter replied, patiently. Where he would have snapped before but for Neal's sake, he's trying to be gentle.

"Thanks for trying, Peter, I know that must have just killed everyone." Neal said.

Peter put his hand on Neal's arm, "We all want this guy, more than anyone." Peter replied.

"You prepared to spend three years chasing him?" Neal asked.

"Neal, you were worth it, this guy doesn't have a chance in hell." Peter snorted.

"Yeah. I guess not." Neal nodded.

"Now, what is this El's got you doing?"

Neal laughed and showed off his handy work. The blanket of many colors had to be the ugliest thing that any of them had ever seen. But, Neal had made it. So it was also the best thing they had ever seen.

~*~

Luis sat in his apartment; seething. He'd already spent a few years in prison for his hobby and now he couldn't even be left alone with his trophies.

"Luis, don't you dare do anything before we get this settled." his Lawyer, Benedict, said. He was tired and organizing his papers. He had a lot of work to do in order to keep Luis out of jail. The young man would be screwed if it wasn't for his father retaining Benedict in the first place.

"Maybe if you hadn't played around with the police." Benedict muttered.

"That's half the fun." Luis replied.

"Well, next time pick someone who won't be missed. Someone with a tracker will always be looked for. I could have told you that." Benedict rolled his eyes, put the papers in his bag and zipped it up.

"Yeah, yeah...but he was pretty." Luis looked out the window. Below he could see the FBI's surveillance van. They couldn't listen in on them, Benedict had made certain of that.

"Well. I won't promise anything." Benedict said, getting ready to leave.

"I know." Luis nodded.

"Don't kill anyone else." the older man warns. Luis sighs. Now he only has his memories to rely on. Thank the heavens that the FBI forgot to add his work basement to the list. He got onto his phone and called some other people his father paid. He needed all of his rewards moved somewhere, and fast.


	7. Chapter 6 - Snow Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is snow bound. Neal tries to deal with what happened to him and someone else is on the prowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. Sorry about that. I may have a job if I ever get e-mailed back the details of said job. *SIGH* Why do people even do that? that's such bullshit. But whatever. Hopefully I get it. :) Also, I decided to write in THE HUGE SNOW STORM. So we'll be dealing with that for a few chapters. Please enjoy.

Neal felt as if he'd camped out on Hoth without a Tonton. He woke to the whole room being cold. The air is crisp and he has to struggle out of bed - he dislodged the empty IV from his arm - and stumbled to the french, double doors to close them. He rubbed his arms. Dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt he felt the cold and breathed a sigh of relief. He had avoided a nightmare but only barely. He hadn't actually slept. But simply dozed.

Back in bed, Mozz snored like the dead. Neal glanced over, smiled a bit. He was safe. He had his anklet and he wasn't planning on going anywhere fast. He felt a bit weak but set about making coffee before slipping into the bath room. He was shaking by the time. Even the bathroom was cold.

He plugged the tub up and started the water; it took some time for it to warm up to the point where it was hot and his skin tingled when he got in. The water is clear and his skin went from white, to pink, to red. He sat back to enjoy the warmth. He'd left the door to the bathroom open. The cool air staved off any overheating from the water.

"You've turned yourself into a lobster." Mozz teased from the doorway.

Neal smiled. "Sorry, left the doors open."

"I know. I would have closed them but I was afraid of waking you." Mozz replied. He rubbed sleep from his eye and turned himself so that Neal wouldn't think he was invading his space.

"I know I'm acting weird." Neal replied.

"Did the Claustrophobia come up?" Mozz asked.

"It was a joke in the elevator but now...ugh." Neal is disgusted with himself.

"Peter wants you to see someone about it." Mozz replied. El and Peter had suggested the idea to Mozz. Who wasn't entirely sure and didn't commit to anything because Neal had been fast asleep and they were trying not to push him too soon.

"I don't know." Neal shrugs. "I'll have to figure it out when I get back into society."

"That may be a huge mistakes. Now, I am not saying that you shouldn't leave. You should, but...ah....you know...." Mozz sighed.

"I know." Neal replied.

"I'm gonna make breakfast, what do you want?" Mozz asked.

"Waffles with chocolate chips, eggs and maybe bacon....?" Neal asked. He was tired of light food and he'd take the chance of throwing it up if he could get his favorite comfort food from Mozz.

"Sure thing," is all his friend says. He hears the tv being turned onto the news.

"And in other news, this is the storm of the century. Prepare to be snowed in for days." the news caster said.

~*~

The whole city is snowed in and shut down. El made an emergency run to the grocer before the first snow fall, and had fit in the trip to Neal's because she really didn't give two shits about what the Mayor said. Now, she sits in her living room working on her own blanket while Peter went over the files he'd brought from his office. The Federal Building was shut down except for extreme circumstances and White Collar had been sent home.

El had gotten bored of watching the news so she had a sci-fi flick going on and paying half attention to it as she crocheted. Peter makes more notes until he sits up, flexes his back and sighs.

"Done?" El asked.

"Yeah. There's nothing more for me to do." Peter frowned down at the files. If they were snowed in than so was Luis Walton. He wouldn't be able to make a move in this storm.

"Yeah." El hummed.

"Want me to make something for lunch?" Peter asked.

"Chili?" El asked hopefully.

"You know I can only make roast." Peter teased.

"I don't care." El replied. Too cozy in her corner of the couch to get up and do it herself.

"Chili for breakfast..." Peter hummed.

"The newest Burke tradition for snowy days." El snickered.

~*~

It's dark. It smells like cedar and the door in front of his face will give way with a single push of a finger. Neal knows this, even though his mind isn't computing the information like he wants it too. And how can a person have flashbacks to another dark, enclosed space? He isn't certain how this works. or why it works. Only that it does and he has to overcome it.

A cat burglar should just retire if they can't crawl through a vent.

That's next on the list. Once he can get his breathing controlled, to settle like he once had. He refuses to let this own him. Make him a quivering, petty, mess on the floor. So what if he'd been buried alive and almost set on fire. That was the past. And he could get work with it. He could work through it. Face his fears and come out the other side just as put together as he always wants himself to look.

A slight knocking on the door panel has him breathing deeply. "Neal?"   
It's June. She and Mozzie hadn't liked the idea, figuring it was too soon but Neal wasn't going to stay in bed worrying about it for a moment longer. If he wasn't useful to Peter he'd go back to jail and seriously, that was not something he wanted right now or was even willing to risk.

"June?" he gulps, he feels flushed and his voice sounds little. He clears his throat, says her name louder with more strength to it.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Her voice slightly muffled by the wood.

"I can come out whenever I want." Neal said. He was stating a fact. Not trying to talk himself out of an oncoming panic attack. The door open, light strained to touch all the corners, chasing the darkness away.

"Yes, you can." she said. She held out her hand, as if she were a Queen and Neal took it. Let himself be gently pulled out of the panel - which had served a shoe wrack not long ago - and back into the bedroom. She settled him into the bed.

"You need to sleep." she said.

Neal shrugged. Not feeling much like sleeping.

June patted his arm, "I've got something for that, from the Doctor." she offered.

Neal nodded. He thought it would be a pill, but June went to wash her hands and from the bathroom she brought out a syringe. She put on some gloves, uncapped the filled tube and pushed some out so there wouldn't be any air bubbles. Neal helped by taking the rubbing alcohol on his bed side table and some tissues to clean a bit of skin on his arm.

June gave him a peck on the corner of his mouth before she dipped the needle to that cleaned bit of skin, it sunk down, it felt like a bad pinch that Neal closed his eyes to and held his breath as he felt the coldness of the drug fill his blood stream.

"You'll go to sleep in a few minutes." June said, slowly she took the needle out and disposed of it in a red bucket. Neal rolled around in bed until he found a comfy spot and yawned. June waited with him as the drug took Neal over and brought him down into darkness.

She sat a bit longer after that. Watching the snow cover the roof terrace.

~*~

Unlike the Heros of this story; Luis is not settling in to weather out the storm. Instead he's lurking the snow covered lanes, looking for anyone else who is stupid enough to come out for anything. So far he's been able to avoid the press and the police, he sticks to alley ways and places he hasn't seen anyone. This was risky. If the cold didn't get him someone would see him, but so far people have their windows covered up and are huddling inside for warmth. Even the homeless shelters are full to the brim with people.

It's dark, and it seems to be getting colder. He ducked into a coffee shop that was open for god knows what reasons. And warms up. That's when he see's her. A small girl working the counter. She has fire stripped hair and green eyes.

He smiles. Starts flirting, she blushes but replies. Yes. She's perfect.

 

 


	8. Chapter 7 - red cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murder and snow go hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS chapter is super short. I will do my best to actually make the next one SUPER long. I don't know how long that will take me nor how close to the end I am. But, here it is.

  
"We're looking at a couple." Leslie said. The body hung from the rafter. The limbs hung at various heights to make it look artistic. If one was into vor, that is. Nathaniel jotted something down in his book.

"It looks like our main suspect is no longer our main suspect. We need Mr. Caffrey to be aware that he could be in danger." he said and took out his phone. He dialed the number.

~*~

Wide green eyes fill with tears as the water slowly fills the glass rectangle structure she's in. The chains hold fast even as she tugs. The manacles too tight to get off her wrists. She's naked and her hair falls into her eyes. On the other side of the glass. A man sits, he's in a high backed, winged chair. There's a fire pit to one side and he's sipping wine.

Bella Thompson knows she's going to die. She yanks on the chains again. But she's not ready to give up.

~*~

"We've just got a report of a girl gone missing after closing up a coffee shop." Leslie said. Handing the paper to Nathaniel. He read it. Then handed it off to a police officer.

"Check any and all abandoned buildings." He told a Detective. "We need to find her."

~*~

Neal is still asleep when his phone rings. It buzzes before going silent. The room is empty, and warm due to the doors being closed. Unaware of being watched. 

~*~

He's watching the black and white footage on his phone, even while his newest is anticipating her own. He looks up at the red head. The water is only at her knees. He smiles. She is screaming but he can't hear her. She bangs on the glass and pulls on the restraints. The water keeps flooding the clear container.

~*~

It's hours upon hours later when they do finally find her. It's all over the news. A woman frozen in a block of ice. She'd been alive too. Drowned before the cold had set in. Bella Thompson's family was told and the whole city knew who it was. The Clue Maker. Even though, this time, he hadn't left any clues to be found.


	9. The Man in the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal kicks his own ass into gear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT HOW A RECOVERY GOES I KNOW. But, I refuse to let Neal be in agony anymore. He's a strong character and I think he'll take care of most of it later rather than right now in getting who had taken him in the first place and stuff.   
> Sorry.   
> To be fair, I was ALMOST raped when I was nineteen and I made myself get over it in like a day because at least I wasn't fully raped and I didn't want to be a victim so....I used those reasons. So if anyone has a problem with what's going on with Neal in this chapter, that's my reason for it.

Neal refuses to go into a full on panic attack when Leslie tells him the news. They're alone and she realizes that maybe this was a bad idea. But, Neal's friends were off stocking up for the rest of the storm and Nathaniel was busy trying to find the the second unsub.

"You mean that....only one of them is dead, and the other one can come and get me?" he asked. Leslie looked away but nodded her head. She never had an easy hand with "victims" especially when they didn't want to be thought of as such. Neal definitely was trying to get over it. After all, he was just buried alive, that's not nearly as bad as being drowned and frozen to death. Well, dead before being froze. Still.

"I'm sorry," she stood.

"It's fine. I can handle it." Neal said. His blue eyes are grey but there's something behind it. Something that Leslie is glad to see. He's mad. He's not going to let this take over his life. Good. She didn't think anyone could handle him being anything but himself.

"Okay." she nodded. She took up her coat and scarf; she put it on and left, trying for a reassuring smile. She knows Neal saw through the act but she wasn't really trying. Neal closed the door after her with a determined click of the latch. Then he turned.

The bathroom light is dim, which doesn't make sense. Colors come off on the grey side of things as he puts his hands on the counter and tries not to throw up. The suddenness of it made his mouth water. He feels hot then cold and he closes his eyes. It takes a few moments for him to fight it. It's not easy, but he refuses to be subdued. Right now, he needed to get back to himself.

He glances up in the mirror. The man there is pale, haggard and the hallow eyes that glance back don't feel like his. Neal stands up straight then. And his imagination takes over. Suddenly, the man in the mirror falters and gone are the t-shirt and sweat pants covered in paint stains, there stands the man in the suite, with the hundred gigawatt smile that got him almost whatever he wanted. The fedora is tilted and the eyes are bright.

"I'm not broken." Neal said to himself.

"Of course not, dear." the other replied. "I'm still here."

"I can't do this." Neal shook his head. "I can't..."

"But you have." Mirror!Neal replied. "I'm part of your identity but not the one you needed in that coffin. You put me on the back burner and did your best to deal with it. You did, you're safe and if you want me, here I am." Mirror!Neal explained.

"That's just perfect." Neal frowned. "I need a psychiatrist."

"Obviously, one who is not a cannibal." Mirror!Neal joked.

"Or one who drugs me without my consent." Neal sighed.

"And to be fair, you do that all the time. When you don't even know it, the moment Peter even suspects anything you put on my smile and my words come out of your mouth. I'm your mask. It's you're choice. I've never taken over when you didn't chose for it to happen. It's us who walk into a bar and take a woman home at the end of the night, and its us that painted and replace works of arts that no one still hasn't traced to us." Mirror!Neal sighed this time.

"This is very Secret Window of us." Neal said, avoiding the subject his inner voice was trying to get him to accept.

"It's up to you." Mirror!Neal shrugged. "I'm here when you need me." then he disappeared. Neal's reflection is back to normal. He smacks the countertop curtly, his hand stings but he ignores it. Turns on the water to warm up. He's right. Or rather, his counterpart is right. And it sucks.

~*~

Mozz almost drops the bag of groceries when he rejoined Neal. He expected his best friend to be in bed avoiding the world. But instead Neal is dressed, black jeans and a black turtle neck, his hair is styled and he's even wearing shoes. He looks put together and in in a fake sort of way either.

Mozz wondered what happened to set Neal forwards like this and if it was a healthy thing. But he new the conman would never tell him so he put the groceries away and started to make some chicken soup. Neal is at the computer, thankfully the power and stuff is still working but the threat of blackouts could happen at any time.

"What's going on?" he asked, wiping his hands off on paper towel after cutting the chicken up and cleaning up after.

"There were two of them." Neal replied, "One was found dead this morning, along with a girl who was drowned then frozen in the water she was drowned in." he turned the computer so Mozz could see the crime scene photos that had been uploaded onto the FBI's servers. Neal was using a proxy server, his time learning from that hacker a few years back was coming in handy. No one would know Neal had seen those photos.

"And what are we going to do about it?" Mozz asked.

"We're going to use his ego to our advantage." Neal replied.

~*~

VICTIM OF CLUE MAKER PUTS OUT BLOG POST DETAILING HIS ORDEAL. SAYS THE WOMAN ICICLE WAS DUE TO A BDSM GAME GONE BAD.

He tore the paper apart. How could that...how could that bastard do this to him!? he growled. Looked the post up and read it. Obviously the man wasn't using his real name. Neal had picked something horribly normal and boring. He played down what had happened to him and made commentary on his captors being short on smarts since the clues were so easy to follow.

A good reason to kill of Louis then. At least he didn't need to worry about that bastard leading the police on a merry goose chase to his victims. And he REALLY wanted to keep Neal too.

He clicked out of the screen, and picked up his phone. His camera hadn't been found. Neal was dressed, looking handsome as ever. He smiled, a deep, teeth glinting, wolfish, sort of smile.

"I'm not going to let you get away, again, Neal." he promised.


	10. more clues and plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal finds a clue, Mozz is hurt and Neal asks for help from someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elri will make one final appearance and then will fuck off after that, and no, they aren't romantic. never was. Just friends.   
> I'm also sorry it's taken me so long to update this story. I got a block on it. I'm trying ot work through it but getting the unsub out is being far more difficult than I thought it was going to be.

Neal hadn’t thought it’d be so easy. Really. He’d seen the idea in plenty of Criminal Minds episodes. Insult the unsub and maybe they’ll come out and play. He was used to doing it subtly, he’d played with the FBI long enough to know how to do it well, when to be very subtle and when to be heavy handed. 

 

Peter, El, and June were not happy campers when they found out. June sat him on the couch and asked if he were responding in a healthy manner or was he doing it out of fear. Peter just wondered if he’d lost all his brain matter in that coffin and El was trying to be supportive but she was scared to lose him again. 

 

Neal understood where they came from; but they weren’t in that coffin, and their mirror selves hadn’t talked to them and he needed to do this. He needed to get that bit of control he had back from whoever had put him in the ground. He’d given plenty to Peter and the FBI, no one else was allowed what little bit he had left. 

 

He went out on a Wensday afternoon, the snow was still piled into drifts and the ban on going out was still in place, but no one bothered him and he avoided all the streets with police on it. He made his way back to the building where he’d been found. He had been rushed off before he could see or examine anything and he was hoping that something was left that he could use to his advantage. 

 

His thick coat is almost soaking when he finally gets to the place. The hole where he’d been dug up from still stands, it’s deep and the coffin is gone since it was evidence but he didn’t need to go down into  it to know that. 

 

The police crime tape was down but it looked as if no one had messed around;  at least he hoped. It was empty and the cold wind sound above in the stairwell put him on edge. It sounded like lonely ghosts were haunting the place. He turned his attention to the walls. The Clue Master might be out of the picture but maybe this other one had left soemthing. 

 

Anything. 

 

For him to find. 

 

Neal slowly read the graffiti. Most of it were gang related or young kids being stupid. Dicks were painted at random intervals but none of it was artistic. Finally, he stood back, as near to the hole as he could without getting in it. And he saw. 

 

NEAL….

 

         ….Let

It…

        GO.

oR, YOU’LL….BE

 

Mine!

 

Again….xoxo. 

 

Neal took out his phone and took as many pictures as he could. Then he called someone other than Mozz for help. She answered sleepily. “What’s taken you so long?” 

 

“Meet me at the lounge.” Neal replied. 

 

~*~

 

Eleri sips a hot chocolate when Neal arrives. Before Kate and Alex, there had been Eleri. She’s sharper than a tack, doesn’t mess around and can pull a con off better than Neal. And that’s saying something. He learnt a thing or two from her, but they had remained friends and parted happily. She’d been the only person somewhat supportive of his endeavours with the FBI and wasn’t afriad tha the’d spill her secrets to his handlers. 

 

Her sea-green eyes light up as he walks in, and sits down. A waitress comes by with some hot chocolate and he sip sit gratefully. 

 

“So, what’s cooking hot stuff?” Eleri asked. 

 

“I was buried alive for a couple of days last week, and now I want to know who did it, think you can help?” He asked. 

 

“For you, anything, what do you have for me to go on?” She asked. 

 

“Just this.” He showed her the picture of the grafitti message. 

 

“I think I know the artists.” Eleri nodded. “Give me a day and I’ll have what you need. 

~*~

 

Mozz frowned; “You asked Elri but not me?” He sounded hurt. 

 

“Mozzie, it’s not like that. I need your immediate help with the trap.” Neal conjoled. “It’s something only you can help me with,” he pouted. Bringong out the eyes and everything. He tried to make himself look as pathetic as possible to gain Mozz’s sympathy. 

  
The bald man sighed, wasn’t buying it but agreed anyway. 


	11. sneak preview for ch ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Sneak Preview, what will happen to Neal now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want people to think that I TOTALLY am ignoring this fic so here is a sneak preview of the first bit of the next chapter. Have fun.

The room is nearly complete; he hadn’t thought to change his mind, that is, until he’d seen his obsession asleep in his own home. The security camera’s had yet to be found. He wished he’d installed sound but looking was all he had wanted to do at first. Look and plan. 

The room is rather big; walls covered in red silk. To hide the stone walls. The four post bed is swathed in a deep, blood red print that’s heavy and to be drawn when it’s cold. The bed, white as snow. A cliche he knows but he wants to see blood stain it their first time. 

The floor is bare and there’s nothing sharp for Neal to use. He knows the con man is tricky, so he must keep all instruments away and help his Lover not succumb to the temptation of freedom. 

The bars of the door is the only thing that can see beyond the room. There is little to no light unless he wishes it. And soon, his song bird will be encaged and he’ll tame said bird in the days to come. 

He takes one more look around. 

It is all as it should be. 

~*~

Getting kidnapped a second time wasn’t in the docket; Neal had to be upset with himself really. After all. He decided it was a good idea to get drunk and to send Mozzie away to set up the sting operation. Con job. He really needs to spend less time with Peter. 

So waking to the dark voice of the man wasn’t something he really wanted right then and there; “Neal? My Love?” 

“Oh boy.” Neal mumbled, all he wanted to do was sleep off the hangover.


	12. Chapter 10 - making due

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal play's it safe, the FBI is clueing for looks, June is just about done with everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO DAMNED LONG. YOU GUYS. .....  
> Ending super suck for me. I hate them so much. But I really need to finish this. So hopefully this helps. Also, someone kicked my ass in gear. lol.

 

The room is nearly complete; he hadn’t thought to change his mind, that is, until he’d seen his obsession asleep in his own home. The security camera’s had yet to be found. He wished he’d installed sound but looking was all he had wanted to do at first. Look and plan. 

 

The room is rather big; walls covered in red silk. To hide the stone walls. The four post bed is swathed in a deep, blood red print that’s heavy and to be drawn when it’s cold. The bed, white as snow. A cliche he knows but he wants to see blood stain it their first time. 

 

The floor is bare and there’s nothing sharp for Neal to use. He knows the con man is tricky, so he must keep all instruments away and help his Lover not succumb to the temptation of freedom. 

 

The bars of the door is the only thing that can see beyond the room. There is little to no light unless he wishes it. And soon, his song bird will be encaged and he’ll tame said bird in the days to come. 

 

He takes one more look around. 

 

It is all as it should be. 

 

~*~

 

Getting kidnapped a second time wasn’t in the docket; Neal had to be upset with himself really. After all. He decided it was a good idea to get drunk and to send Mozzie away to set up the sting operation. Con job. He really needs to spend less time with Peter. 

 

So waking to the dark voice of the man wasn’t something he really wanted right then and there; “Neal? My Love?” 

 

“Oh boy.” Neal mumbled, all he wanted to do was sleep off the hangover. 

 

“Come now,” the cajoling tone turned icy in the next second and Neal is in survival mode. He gives it a second, then he rises. It’s cold, a huge contrast to the red walls. The bed clothing is warm, he’s without a shirt….

 

And pants….

 

“There we go.” the masked man says. The mask is white without any features. The Voice is masked even, it sounds off; Like it was meant to be human but never got to that point. 

 

“You didn’t bury me alive, again.” Neal deadpanned. 

 

“That game belonged to my former partner.” the masked man replied. He sits in a dark brown, leather, wingback chair. His suite is Armani. He is not nervous that Neal could overwhelm him in an attack. He is tall, and slight of build. But Neal would rather talk his way out than fight. But even if he did escape he wouldn’t know who the man is. That wouldn’t help anyone. 

 

“What about that woman in the ice?” Neal asked. 

 

“Oh her? She was just to get your attention, dear.” the man said, happy. 

 

Neal felt himself twitch, that was disturbing on many levels. “I don’t think you understand how wrong that was.” He muttered. 

 

“Oh, I know very well how wrong it is. I just ignore that bit. It’s not fun otherwise.” a shrug. 

 

“Ah.” Neal nodded. 

 

“Tea?” The man asked. 

 

“Drugged?” 

 

“No. I’d much rather spend some time with you.” is the reply. The man stands and he goes over to the wardrobe. From it he takes out an oriental style robe. Neal climbed out of the bed. His anklet is gone. Replaced by a gold plated band with a chain. It’s attached to the middle of the floor. 

 

“It’s only there until….” 

 

“Until I decide to stay?” Neal asked. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Neal nodded; he is certain to be more thankful for the two mile radius in the future. 

 

~*~

 

“I’ve hacked the camera feed.” Jones said. He is sitting at June’s dining room table. She’s invited the whole team inside for brunch. It’s the best time they’ve had working. 

“It’s encrypted and it leads to an internet cafe.” Jones explained. 

 

“I’ve got the actual footage of Neal being taken. It’s not much to go on.” Diana angled her computer to Peter. She played the black and white video. 

 

A masked man walked into Neal’s flat as if he owned it. He looked up at the camera - meaning he had planted it - gave it a jaunty wave - as if to say that he knew the footage would be gained by the FBI - then he strode towards the bed where Neal was sleeping. 

 

A cloth is unfolded from a plastic baggie, and placed over Neal’s nose and mouth. He woke slightly to fight it off but the other man had the element of surprise and easily subdued him. 

 

And magically, the man was able to remove the anklet. Peter nor the Marshal’s had gotten any indication that the anklet had been tampered with, which was why forty eight hours after Neal had been kidnapped were they made aware of the situation. June had simply thought Neal was tired and needed rest. Mozzie was nowhere to be found either. 

 

“Hmmmm…..” Peter shook his head. “E-mail that to me there has to be a clue.” 

 

~*~

 

June sat in her living room, trying to play everything off as normal. The FBI in her dining room, Neal in danger. Again. When will that boy ever learn? 

  
She glanced down to her cell phone; Mozzie would pick up her calls. Or there will be hell to pay. 


	13. Everything is a Farce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The FBI get a break in the case, Neal plays a game for his life, and June is more than she seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably NOT very long, but here we go. And thank you to all who have held on and reminded me to update this. The muse has shattered and I've been leaving this because I want to do it right. Though it may be a bit of duex machine or whatever. But you know. I'm going to try.

Neal’s suite included other rooms than the one he’d woken up in. All with internal camera’s. The chain reached farther than he had thought and now he sits at a small table, with a full High Tea, in a grey plaid wingback chair. 

 

He sipped Earl Grey from fine bone china with a pattern of light blue flowers; it had a bit of sugar and milk in it. His captor had a cup as well. He had unhinged the bottom part of his mask to partake in the hot beverage. 

 

“So, what exactly is the plan when the FBI comes calling?” Neal asked conversationally. He’s relaxed on the outside but slightly stressed in his head. He’s play acting house with this man for his life. Given time, he assumes he can get out. 

 

It’ll be a challenge he hasn’t had for a while. 

 

“They won’t.” the man smiled. His lips bow a bit. He licks at them and leans forward. “But, let us discuss your tenure under my care.” 

 

Neal raised an eyebrow; “oh, do let’s.” 

 

~*~

 

Elizabeth poured some market value black tea into a mug. Dumped some sugar, milk and lemon into it. She twisted the water with a spoon. Tapped it lightly on the inside rim then took it to Peter. 

 

He’s sitting at the laptop. Rewatching the video. He has to be on his one-hundredth view of it. He paused, tapped backwards. Sighed. He took the cup his wife put at his elbow. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked. 

 

“There has to be a clue, there has to be some sort of detail connecting this man to us, to Neal.” Peter sat back. Sipped the tea. Then made a face. 

 

“That’s not coffee.” he frowned. Elizabeth snorted at him.

 

“You don’t need more coffee.” She replied. Rolled her eyes and then slid into his lap. She tapped the video to the front and began to watch it. She hadn’t actually watched it all the way through. 

“You know…” she said, when they got to the part where the masked an undid Neal’s FBI issued Tracking device. “He would have to have the newest technology to do that. I have a co-worker whose son is on house arrest. And teenagers being teenagers, he’d been able to get a friend to rustle up this…..little doohickey….” 

 

“It interrupts the signal?” Peter asked. 

 

“No. It mimics it.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Helen said that she’d found it when she was doing her weekly check to make sure he hadn’t anything his probation officer would take him to jail for.” Elizabeth explained. 

 

“She found the device?” Peter asked. “So, this kid found a way to get the tracking device off but he needed to mimic the signal long enough to sneak out of the house and then sneak back in.” 

 

“Right.” Elizabeth nodded. “But, it HAS to be left at the house.” 

 

Peter helped Elizabeth up; “If we find the device, we can track down the seller, and then we can get all the records of who they sold it too. Also. this masked man had to hide it around the bed…...but not make it obvious because he knew we’ll go through the video.” Peter pointed at the lap top. 

 

“I’ve got to go…” Peter quickly packed everything up, he’s calling up the team as he gets his keys. “Meet me at Neal’s...I may have found a clue thanks to my lovely wife.” 

 

~*~

 

“El is amazing.” Diana says as she finally finds the small, black mimicker. The black box looked like any other wall charger. “One button finds the signal, it has to scan it for a second and then when the light goes green you can take the tracking device off because it’s sending out the same signal.” she said. 

 

“We can’t let Neal know about this.” Peter murmured. 

 

“I can’t believe that he wouldn’t have, or at least his friend Mozzie.” Diana shook her head and put the mimicker into a plastic bag. She labeled it properly for evidence and then found the Serial number. She copied it down in her note book. 

 

“We’ll find whoever sold this sucker.” she snapped it shut and handed the bag to Peter. 

 

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “Anything else?” 

 

“We found a to go bag.” she shrugged. “We put a tracker in it just in case.” 

 

Peter smiled; “Good job.” 

 

~*~

 

The rules were actually rather simple; all he had to do was listen to his host. Mr. Morticer. “Call me Abner.” Keep his rooms clean, himself clean; and so on. 

 

Neal lies in Abner’s arms. The face mask on in full. Abner is not asleep. Though they lie in bed. Spunk dries between his legs and he takes a deep breath. 

 

He isn’t the first to decorate these rooms. There are portraits of those who came before him. Four women, five men. They all died here eventually. Two women through suicide. The other’s either broke the rules and were taken to “The Room.” or they starved themselves. 

 

He had to be the last. Neal fell into bed with Abner easily, the sex was hard but Abner was happy. And at the moment the Con hinged on that. As it mostly always did. 

 

Neal pushed his panic and doubts to the back of his mind; now is not the time to have a panic attack. Now is the time to plan. Peter will be here soon but Neal needed more than a gold chain. 

 

Abner had the money to buy off anyone and everyone. 

 

And that will be his downfall. 

 

~*~

 

Mozz sent a text to June. She met him at one of his safe houses. “What have you done?” she asked. 

 

“I’ve found Neal.” he said, excitedly. “It was hard to do but I did it.” 

 

“What now?” June asked. 

 

“We have to tell the FBI, don’t we?” Mozz shrugged. 

 

“We need to get Neal first.” June frowned. 

 

“How are you at cat burglarizing?” 

 

“I brought my blacks with me.” June smiled. “Watch the Massachusetts Cougar at work.” 

 

~*~ 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	14. The big Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June and Mozz do a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly I've been meaning to finish this story but the muse has left me. I tried to write a bit to this so this is a VERY short chapter. it's mostly to get myself interested in this again. Sorry if it sucks. I've decided to get stuff going. I didn't want to spend five chapters on stuff. I love mysteries and clues, but there is only so long you can keep that going.
> 
> Now. We're on to other stuff.

Neal splashed cold water on his face. Eyes closed. Tile cool against his bare feet. Back exposed. A record plays from the bedroom. A net is waiting for him. Neal can't do this with an audience. 

 

He takes a deep breath. 

 

~*~

 

Abner smiles when his prize returns to him. Neal's skin glows in the dim light. His robe parts subtly along his chest. Showing off a flash of a nipple. He can't wait to taste the boy-his boy- any more. 

 

Once Neal is within grabbing distance he takes an elbow and grips the back of Neal's neck. The conman allows the contact. He goes easily and opens his mouth slightly so that Abner can dip his tongue in a bit. He closes his eyes. It’s not the first time in his life he’s had to do something like this. 

 

~*~

 

June had a multitude of secrets she hadn’t even told her dear husband of; one of these is when she did a short stint as a cat-burglar in Massachusetts. The large mansion she has plans for sits outside of New York, way in the countryside. The FBI were looking at the city itself. Not an old vineyard that hadn’t produced anything for twenty years or more. 

 

Mozzie had gotten the plans for her. And she had her tools. The security system was top of the line but one she was intimate with. A simple wire snip and she was home free. It was wire far outside the property line. And Mozz hooked the wires up so that he could have control of said system through his laptop. 

 

“Okay, June, looks clear.” 

 

“Do you have Neal?” she asked. She’s sliding a window open and sliding in. She’s not as young as she used to be but she was still light on her feet. 

 

“Yeah, he’s in some type of subterranean thing. I dunno. It looks like a maze.” Mozz said. 

 

“Find the entrance,” June said. “I’m going to set the smoke bomb and get some dirt on this bastard.” 

 

Mozz clacked at the keys while June went about her business. The screen had Neal and his abductor making out. He didn’t like the look of it. Poor Neal. But they’d get him out and home soon. 

 

The smoke bomb was on a ten minute timer. June grabbed some important looking papers from a desk in the study then waited. Soon enough smoke began to fill the hallways and the drawing room. Mozz hit the fire alarm. 

 

From his screen; he saw that Neal’s abductor pull away and hurriedly dress. He rushes out. Hardly locking anything behind him. Mozz directed June to the wall which hid a stairway. 

 

She went down it. And found Neal trying to pick the lock with a flimsy looking wire. “Need some help?” she asked. 

 

Neal looked up and smiled. 

 

~*~

 

The Cars pulled up in front of the mansion. The FBI practically flooded the place. They didn’t find anyone but Neal getting dressed. 

 

Peter rushed towards him, and enveloped Neal in a bear hug. 

  
  



	15. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal returns, a bit beaten around the edges, but it's a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and commented on the last chapter. lol. I know it was bullshit. hopefully this one is better. AND yes, I will do my best to focus on the Recovery. or as close as I can get to it. Of course this is fiction and we all deal in this in different ways, but I am going to do my darn best to make it healthy.

“I want to keep you overnight.” the Doctor is saying. Neal blinks up at the man. 

 

“I need to go home.” Neal said. 

 

“I know you don’t feel hurt.” Doctor Rafael Espina replied. He’s a tall Latino, with a kind smile and brilliant eyes. “But, I need you to stay.” 

 

Neal frowned. He and the Doctor were alone. Peter and Elizabeth were waiting outside. Mozz wouldn’t come, he hated hospitals. He didn’t know if June had arrived yet. 

 

“I…”Neal shook his head.

 

“Please, you also need to see a specialist in Trauma.” Rafael said. 

 

Neal sighed; “Alright.” he wasn’t going to win this one. He didn’t feel up to conning the Doctor either. He’d leave on his own, take care of the paperwork later. 

“Good. We’ve run all the tests we need, I don’t think you are in danger of contracting anything but we need to make sure.” Rafael said, he looked at the board. “And Doctor Xu Lian will be in to see you later.” 

 

“Alright.” Neal said again. 

 

~*~

 

Peter was glad to see that Neal was in bed when he and Elizabeth were allowed in; Neal hadn’t elaborated on anything that’d gone on with his captor. Who he still didn’t know the name of; or he knew a “name’. Peter, on the other hand, did. 

 

“Hey.” He grinned at Neal. “How are you?” 

 

“Tired.” Neal replied. 

 

“I bet you are.” Elizabeth said. “Sorry you can’t leave yet.” 

 

“It’s fine. I guess I should stay.” Neal sighed. 

 

“We’ll pick you up when they let you out, alright?” Elizabeth put a box on the standing tray next to him. 

 

“What is that?” Neal asked. 

 

“I heard from a bird it’s your favorite chocolate.” Elizabeth said. 

 

“Swiss? For real?” this was the most excited Peter had seen Neal all day evening. It was odd thinking that he’d been rescued just four hours prior. He had to be questioned, give a statement, taken to the hospital, tests taken, settled in his room, have a consultation. In fact, Peter didn’t even know if Neal had been fed a real meal yet. 

 

“Yes.” Elizabeth confirmed. “Mozz asked me to bring it to you since he doesn’t like hospitals.” 

 

“He and June did enough for me, I don’t need him coming by.” Neal said. 

 

“It’s going to take a lot to keep her name out of this.” Peter said. 

 

“You have too. She has a reputation to uphold.” Neal had the box in his lap. It’s a simple white box with a gold ribbon wrapped around it. He fiddles with it. 

 

“I will see what I can do.” Peter promised. 

 

“Thanks.” Neal didn’t look at him. Peter knew he was looking at the real Neal Caffrey. The one who wasn’t certain about himself, or sported that half smile that said he was up to something. The confidence man was gone, and now, just a person existed. 

 

“It’ll be alright, Neal. I’m having a guard put on. Okay?” 

 

“Sure, Peter.” 

 

“Oh, and this…” he produced a different model of a tracking anklet that’s been Neal’s bane and savior over the past year or so. Gently Peter placed it around Neal’s ankle and clicked it in place. 

 

Neal just blinked; “and that’s supposed to keep me safe?” he asked. 

 

“Errr…..no?” Peter asked, Elizabeth huffed at him. 

 

“Because it won’t stop Abner from getting me again if he really wants too…” Neal starts breathing hard. 

 

Elizabeth settled on the bed next to him; “It’s a new model, you see.” she said. 

 

“Yes.” his voice is small. He leans his head on her shoulder as an arm goes around his. 

 

“It can’t be hacked, or the signal disrupted.” Peter said. “Abner can’t use the same trick as before on you, or us.” 

 

Neal bit his lower lip. But nodded. Peter wouldn’t tell tales about the tracker. Mostly because he liked for Neal to know all it can do to keep him in line. Or he just wanted to distract Neal. Either way, it worked. 

 

“Now….food?” Elizabeth asked. “Want me to call down for you?” 

 

“Sure. Chicken…?” Neal asked. 

 

~*~

 

He barely ate the food brought to him but he tried for their benefit. Eventually visiting hours were over and Peter and Elizabeth had to leave. However. The security Detail outside did not. 

 

Neal tried to sleep. 

 

But he couldn’t. 

 

The shadows held things that weren’t there to begin with. 

 

~*~

 

Neal was not at all enthused when Xu Lian showed up with Leslie Hammond from the BSU; she had questions. Even though they had the run of the mansion they found him at, she wanted to know more about his captor. About Abner. 

 

“What do you want to know? That I was his pet? That he kept me chained? I’m used to that.” Neal pursed his lips. His words aren’t mean, he didn’t mean them like that. Xu Lian watched him closely but didn’t comment. 

 

“Neal.” Leslie sat in a chair by his bed, she wasn’t coddling him. “Did you and he talk about anything? About where he’d go?” she asked. 

 

Neal blinked, he figured she’d ask him what he looked liked. Neal didn’t say anything. He merely shook his head. 

 

“Did he….do anything else to you?” 

 

“WIth me, you mean.” Neal corrected. 

 

“What do you mean?” Xu Lian asked. “If you did anything intimate with him, it was out of survival and you don’t need to feel guilty about that.” 

 

Neal gulped, closed his eyes; trying hard not to cry. There wasn’t anything to feel guilty about, he knew this. He’d done the same many times before he was able to stand on his own two feet, selling or exchanging his forged paintings for a good payoff which kept him out of the streets. 

 

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”   


 

“You’re not fine. Neal.” Leslie said. “I know this is hard. I’m sorry you had to do what you did. But Xu Lian is right.” she didn’t touch him. She wasn’t certain how the con artist would take that. 

 

Neal fiddled with the light blue blanket. He needed a shower and some actual clothing. 

 

“We only did it once, and he acted….” Neal then shook his head. “I can’t say more than that.” 

 

“It’s fine. You said there were others?” Leslie asked. 

 

“About five, he had their pictures hanging up.” Neal said. 

 

“Did you recognize any of them?” Xu Lian asked. 

 

“No. I have never met them, I know they are dead.” Neal replied. 

 

“Oh?” 

 

The women waited for Neal to continue. His mouth had gone dry as he tried to dredge up the words. He hated how hard this was, how weak he seemed. He wasn’t weak. He was in control. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

 

“I know because Abner told me that if I didn’t obey him, he’d kill me.” Neal said. “Or at least alluded to it.” he corrected himself. He wasn’t entirely certain of their conversation. But, he knew what the outcome would have been, eventually. 

 

“Alright. Neal. That’s a good start.” Xu Lian said. 

“I’ll leave you to it Neal, when we find him, we’ll let you know. Alright?” Leslie offered. 

 

“Okay.” Neal nodded. 

 

~*~

 

June spent the last two days making sure everything was perfect for Neal. She had a guest room ready in case he couldn’t face staying in the upstairs apartment. She had changed the door lock, Mozz had helped. Stocked the wine. Probably a bad idea, but she knew he liked his wine. 

 

And made sure that the fridge was stocked with everything he could need. When Neal finally arrived. With Peter and Elizabeth behind him. She gave him a bright smile. He was dressed in FBI sweats. Her Byron would have laughed his ass off if he were alive. 

 

“Oh, Neal!” she held her arms out and he went to her willingly with the biggest hug she’d ever received from him.

 

“If the apartment gets too much there’s a guest bedroom ready for you.” she said. 

 

“Thank you.” Neal said softly.  

 

“You’re welcome, neal.” June replied. 

 

“You can always stay with us,” Peter offered. 

 

Neal turned, a smile on his face; “Thanks but no thanks, Peter. I’d like to settle in.” 

 

“Sure, just call us if you need anything.” Elizabeth put one of her famous apple pies on the table. She pecked Neal on the cheek then pulled her husband away and out of the room. Peter looked as if he wanted to say something, but in the end just gave a cheerful good-by instead. 

 

Neal sighed. 

 

“Are you alright?” June asked. 

 

“I’m different….since this all started.” Neal replied. 

 

“Well, that’s to be expected, now is important.” She said. 

 

“What do you mean?” Neal asked. 

 

“Well.” June cupped his cheeks in her hands. “How you deal with what you’ve been through is important. You can either let it eat at you and destroy you, or you can use it, take control of it and be better for it.” 

 

Neal could only look at her. 

 

“It’s alright, you can take your time.” She said gently. Neal laid his head on her shoulder. He did his best not to cry. June simply wrapped her arms around him. 


End file.
